


Rebel in a Small Town

by PersephoneTree



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Pre-Series, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersephoneTree/pseuds/PersephoneTree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ruby Lucas wants a lot of things. Mostly, she wants out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebel in a Small Town

 

            Ruby Lucas wants a lot of things. A better car. A real leather jacket. A cosmetics shop in town, a Sephora or MAC boutique, so she won’t have to rely on the off-brand makeup at the pharmacy.

            Mostly, she wants out.

            It’s not that she doesn’t like Storybrooke. The town is peaceful, idyllic, a haven free of crime and corruption and full of friendly, hardworking people. No, Storybrooke is beautiful. It’s her home.

            It’s also so boring she could tear her hair out.

            She spends her days at work, which at least offers basic human interaction, but her evenings are dead, often spent wiping down tables or driving around the empty streets with her music blaring. Some nights she puts on her reddest lipstick and heads down to the Rabbit Hole, plays some pool. The guys there are always willing to pay for a round or two as long as they get to watch her ass while she sets up her shots. Some of them are cute, like Billy from the garage, and others not so cute, like Dr. Whale who stares too long. Still, she flirts with them all, just because there’s nothing else to do.

            She never takes any of them home. She’d have to see them every day afterwards; it would be way too awkward.

            She reads, cover-to-cover, the magazines her grandmother buys for the inn’s lobby, hoarding the ones she likes in her room. They never have guests anyway; she can’t remember the last time anyone new came through town. The ceiling over her bed is covered in a collage of glossy pages. It’s not the starlets or their clothes she cuts out, but the travel ads, Paris and Venice and the Caribbean. Sandy beaches, faraway cities. She stares at them every night before she falls asleep, and dreams about the trips she’ll take someday.

            She stopped suggesting vacations a long time ago. Granny can’t close the diner, not even for a weekend, not when they need almost every cent just to make rent each month. And Ruby can’t leave her on her own. She thinks about it sometimes, when her feet hurt and the smell of burger grease and ketchup makes her want to barf. She could hit the road and head for New York or Boston, hell, Portland even – anywhere that isn’t _here_. But each time, just when she’s made up her mind, she thinks _Granny_ , a wave of guilt hitting her low in her stomach, and she sighs and smiles and takes another order.

            There are days she almost goes anyway. One biting remark too many from Granny about her flirting or the high cut of her skirt, and she’s off, slamming the door behind her. Mostly she just winds up at the docks, or in the woods, walking until she’s blown off enough steam to slink back with her tail between her legs. Granny never says anything about it, just hands her a stack of menus and sends her back to work, and that’s that until the next time.

            One time she actually makes it halfway to the town limits, a hastily-packed suitcase in the backseat of her car, but the Camaro breaks down on her before she even reaches the sign – _Leaving Storybrooke_ , god, she wishes – and she has to call Billy to come pick her up.

            He buys her a beer after, though, so the day isn’t totally wasted.

           


End file.
